


Love Batter

by thistreasurehunter



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: 2019, Baking, Baking Fail, Banter, Boys In Love, Dave can't bake, Dave didn't die!AU, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Klaus can bake, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Some light innuendo, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, pure tooth rotting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29810274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistreasurehunter/pseuds/thistreasurehunter
Summary: “Well, the surprise is ruined now, so might as well,” Dave sighed. He stepped away from the counter, revealing the thing behind him that had previously been shielded by his body.Klaus looked down. “It’s brilliant,” he said automatically. Then, after a beat, he added gently, “what is it?”Dave grimaced and scrubbed a hand over his face, but when he brought it down, he was smiling.“That bad, huh?” he said.***********Or: Klaus comes home early and catches Dave up to something in the kitchen.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	Love Batter

“Oh, umm.”

Klaus closed the front door quietly and stood for a second in the hallway, head on one side, listening.

“Umm… yes.”

Klaus frowned. He heard the smacking of lips, shortly followed by another low groan.

“Yes. That’s good. There we go…”

He could hear movement in the direction of the kitchen. Suddenly, the tone of the noise changed.

“Oh, no! Don’t do that! Oh dear. Oh, that’s not good.”

There was a clatter and then muffled grumbling.

“Oh, no. Why can’t you just…?” There was another clatter. “Oh, oops, oh no! Don’t...”

There was a dull thunk, and Klaus heard Dave say, “owch.”

Klaus dropped his keys in the bowl and walked down the hallway to their kitchen.

He pushed the door open and stopped in the entrance, his eyebrows shooting up.

Dave froze in place. He looked up guiltily, eyes wide, a finger in his mouth and his other hand clutching his foot. He was also wearing a frilly apron.

Dave brought the finger out of his mouth with a wet pop. “I… I… I thought you said you were going to be back late tonight?!” he spluttered.

“I did,” Klaus said bemused.

“But, but…” Still balancing on one foot, Dave waved his free arm wildly. Something gloopy flicked off a finger and landed somewhere near the toaster. “But this isn’t late at all!” he finally said, the tiniest hint of accusation behind the words.

“Allison had to cancel,” Klaus said evenly. “I did text you. But maybe you didn’t notice. I mean, it looks like you’ve been a little _busy_ in here.” He looked around the kitchen, taking in the full scene. “Daaaaavve,” he said finally in a light, sing-song voice, the corner of his mouth curling upwards, a gleeful twinkle in his eyes, “whatcha doin’?”

Dave deflated a little. He let go of his foot and looked glumly at the chaos surrounding him.

“I was,” he started sheepishly, purposefully not catching Klaus’ eye. “I was trying to bake you a cake.”

Klaus’ face lit up even brighter. “Really?!”

“Yeah,” Dave nodded, twisting his face into a rueful grimace. “A surprise cake for your birthday tomorrow. I thought I could make it tonight while you were out and hide it in a cupboard overnight and surprise you in the morning.”

Klaus’ heart clenched and he looked at Dave fondly. “My darling, dearest Dave,” Klaus gently teased, “light of my life, fire of my loins,” he broke off and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Even if Allison hadn’t cancelled, I’d have been back in an hour or so anyway. Did you really think you could finish up and then get our kitchen looking normal again by the time I got back?”

They both looked around. Dirty bowls were strewn across the counters, along with various utensils, eggs shells and empty packets. Cake pans were discarded near the hob, a brown, baked-on crust coating the inside. There was a palette knife on the floor, gloopy icing dripping from the flat blade into a small puddle. Also, a layer of flour and icing sugar seemed to have settled over _everything._

“Hmm,” Dave said in a mock solemn voice. “I take your point.”

Klaus laughed.

Dave bent down and picked up a cookery book that was splayed open, upside-down, by his bare feet. Dave’s fingers left sticky marks on the cover as he tried shuffling things around on the counter, looking for somewhere clean to lay it down.

Klaus stepped forwards and took the book from Dave. It was surprisingly heavy in Klaus’ hands. “Did this drop on your foot?” Klaus asked quietly.

“Um, yeah,” Dave reluctantly admitted.

Klaus looked down at the book. His nostrils flared and he suddenly felt an irrational wave of anger wash over him.

“Right,” he said with a hiss, baring his teeth, “well that settles it.” He held the book between a pinched finger and thumb and unceremoniously dropped it in the trash can.

“Klaus!” Dave said shocked.

“It hurt you,” Klaus said simply. “It has no place in our home anymore.”

Dave’s face softened in fond bemusement. Klaus watched his eyebrows crinkle together as he gave an exasperated little shake of his head.

“You know I’m just going to have to go digging though the trash to rescue that now?” His words had no bite.

“Don’t you dare!” Klaus looked scandalised. “It’s dead to me now. Goodbye evil instrument of pain…” He waved his Goodbye hand at the bin, but then looked back up at Dave and grinned.

“You really are something else,” Dave said fondly.

Klaus’ eyes twinkled and he reached out and traced a finger over Dave’s cheek, following a gloopy smear of pink icing.

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but right now, Mr Katz,” he said, “so are you.”

Klaus trailed his eyes down Dave’s body, taking in the floury handprints and unidentifiable smears that covered his clothes. Something pale brown and gloopy was drying in crusty matted clumps in his gloriously mussed curls.

Klaus reached up and tried to pull a bit of the stuff out of Dave’s hair. He raised a questioning eyebrow at his boyfriend.

“Oh, yeah,” Dave said. “I forgot about that.” He glanced up and Klaus followed his gaze to where splattered streaks of cake batter formed a modern art masterpiece on the white paint of their kitchen ceiling.

“How…?” Klaus started.

“I tried to use that mixer Vanya gave us,” Dave explained. “But I guess I didn’t fix the lid on properly.”

Klaus looked around the kitchen again. “What’s that?” he said, pointing at a couple of thin, dense-looking – vaguely cake-shaped – disks, half hidden under an empty bag of flour.

“Oh, that was my first attempt,” Dave grimaced again. “Back when I had high expectations. Apparently there is a difference between plain and self-raising flour.”

“Think the clue’s in the name, babe,” Klaus smiled.

Dave huffed. “I can follow a recipe,” he said indignantly, “but I just forgot about the flour thing.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just wanted to get it right.”

“And did you?” Klaus asked.

“Yes!” Dave nodded vigorously, a little shower of flower falling onto his broad shoulders. But then he paused and pulled a face. “Well,” he clarified, “the cake worked okay… eventually.” He looked over his shoulder and then back to Klaus. “The decorating part, not so much though,” he admitted. He scrunched his nose, contorting his face into an expression of dejected disappointment. Klaus thought he looked positively adorable.

“Can I see?”

“Well, the surprise is ruined now, so might as well,” Dave sighed. He stepped away from the counter, revealing the thing behind him that had previously been shielded by his body.

Klaus looked down. “It’s brilliant,” he said automatically. Then, after a beat, he added gently, “what is it?”

Dave grimaced and scrubbed a hand over his face, but when he brought it down, he was smiling.

“That bad, huh?” he said.

“No,” Klaus corrected himself quickly. “I mean, it looks great! I can see you’ve clearly put a lot of effort into this. I was just wondering…” he paused, “well, it’s very... I was just wondering what the thinking behind it was?”

“I know you never had your own birthday cake,” Dave said slowly. “Because you and your siblings all had the same birthday. I remember you saying Grace used to make one big cake for you all to share. But it’s not like having your _own_ cake, just for you, with your name on it.”

Klaus’ eyes scanned Dave’s face. Dave was determinedly looking at the cake in front of him. Klaus reached over and took hold of his hand – his sticky, messy hand – and squeezed. The corner of Dave’s mouth twitched in a smile and he shook himself slightly.

“So that’s what I tried to do,” Dave carried on, “make you your own cake. Because you deserve a cake of your own, with only your name on it.”

“Is that what’s going on here?” Klaus pointed to an amorphous smear of blue icing that was bleeding into the runny pink icing underneath and then dribbling off the edges and pooling on the plate below.

“Yeah,” Dave sighed. “It was supposed to say _Happy Birthday Klaus._ ”

“Thank you,” Klaus said, squeezing Dave’s hand again. “It’s perfect.”

Dave snorted. “Hardly!” he said. “In hindsight, I think I should have waited for the cake to cool down before trying to ice it. Plus, I think this icing is too runny.”

“No,” Klaus said firmly. “It’s perfect.”

Dave raised an eyebrow. “Klaus,” he said firmly, “you don’t need to humour me. I know it’s pants. I’ve seen how well your cakes turn out and this – most definitely – is nothing like them.”

Klaus frowned. “Firstly,” he said, “you grew up in the 50s! I hardly think it was part of the curriculum. Secondly, you’ve met my mom! There’s no way she wasn’t going to make sure all her kids could bake a mean sponge cake! And thirdly – now brace yourself, because this is going to be as corny as the corniest corn bread – Grace also taught us that the most important ingredient in any great bake is the love you stir in along the way.” Klaus looked down, ran a finger through the dribbled icing, brought it up to his mouth and then licked it off his finger, maintaining eye contact with Dave the whole time. “And it’s clear that this cake, Dave, is positively overflowing with that. So, on that logic, this is the best cake that’s ever been baked.”

Dave’s eyes got a little glossy and he pulled Klaus into his arms, burying his face into the crook of Klaus’ neck.

“I love you,” Dave said. It sounded thick and muffled.

“That’s because I’m so damn lovable,” Klaus joked, running his fingers through Dave’s hair. “At least, that’s the overwhelming feedback I’ve got so far from all the people in my life. Oh, no, wait…” Klaus trailed off, grinning.

Dave pulled back, his hands resting on Klaus’ hips. “Well, I find it exceedingly easy.”

Klaus smiled. He reached up, wiped another smear of icing from Dave’s cheek with his thumb then leaned forwards and kissed the tip of his nose.

Dave blinked and looked down at himself again, then at the flour and sticky streaks he had transferred to Klaus’ clothes during their hug.

“Oh dear,” he said, trying to pull away “I’m sorry, baby, I’ve messed up your outfit.”

“I don’t care,” Klaus replied, pulling him back fiercely. “Do you hear me? I don’t care.” He rested his hands on Dave’s chest, his fingers playing with the collar of his soft tee. “And for the record,” he added, “I never want to hear anyone calling my special, surprise birthday cake _pants_ ever again. My boyfriend made me that and I love it,” he nuzzled the tips of their noses together. “I love every sticky inch of it.” He kissed the frown lines between Dave’s eyes, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“You still talking about the cake?” Dave asked, his thumbs gently stroking over the strip of exposed skin at Klaus’ waist, his mouth curling up in a smile.

“I can’t imagine what you mean!” Klaus’ eyes twinkled.

Dave grinned and caught Klaus’ mouth in a kiss, a sweet press of slightly parted lips.

Klaus let out a sigh and pressed forwards, their lips moving in a lazy slide. They broke apart, resting their foreheads together and took a moment, just holding each other and breathing the same air.

“Well,” Klaus said, his lips brushing Dave’s as he spoke. “I think we both know what we need to do now.”

“Umm,” Dave hummed his agreement. He paused, then added, “I’ll fill the sink.”

“Good idea,” Klaus grinned. “I’ll grab a tea-towel.”

Dave huffed a laugh and pulled back, grinning. Then he turned to start filling the washing-up bowl with hot soapy water.

Klaus reached up and, with practiced ease, twisted his hair into a loose bun on the top of his head, securing it with a black glittery scrunchie from his wrist. He flicked the radio on and the room was filled with the soft sound of something light and boppy. Klaus flashed a smile and started dancing around the room, collecting the dirty bowls and utensils between enthusiastic little shimmies and finally stacking them in a pile next to the sink.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, laughing and chatting – Dave elbow deep in sudsy water and Klaus drying the items and placing them on the draining board – they were the very picture of pure domestic bliss.

****************************************************************

“And you’re sure I can’t just use the mop?” Klaus squinted at the ceiling.

“Yes, sugarplum, I’m sure,” Dave looked over at him fondly from where he was putting the cutlery back in the drawer. “As is undoubtedly clear from the way I butchered that cake, I’m hardly a domestic goddess. But even I know you shouldn’t mop your ceiling. I’ll pick up some stepladders from the store tomorrow.”

“Or,” Klaus said, “I could just ask Luther to do it. What’s the point of having a giant for a brother if you can’t ask him to clean cake batter from your ceiling every now and again?”

“A completely normal sentence,” Dave said with a grin. Klaus rolled his eyes.

Dave wandered over to the counter and looked down at the cake.

“I’ll just bin this,” he said.

“What?! No!” Klaus said shocked, hopping down from the counter he’d been sitting on and trotting over to Dave. “Don’t throw away my cake!”

Dave suppressed a little smile, looking down at the sticky mess. “Don’t worry, pumpkin, the love-cake speech was very much appreciated. I got the message loud and clear. But you don’t actually have to eat this, you know.”

But when he looked up, Klaus was already holding out two plates and a knife.

“I’m selfish and impatient and can’t wait until tomorrow,” Klaus said.

Dave snorted, but moved aside.

“Make a wish,” Dave said, as Klaus cut two large slices. Klaus turned his face away slightly, smiling to himself. Dave wasn’t entirely sure, but he though he heard Klaus whisper, “No point, I already have him.”

They took their cake and a couple of forks into the living room and settled onto the sofa, their knees touching.

“Ummm,” Klaus hummed, his mouth full. “This is amazing.”

Dave took a careful bite, considering. “I guess it doesn’t taste too bad,” he said.

Klaus sprayed a mouthful of crumbs in his haste to reply, “It tastes so good!”

He swallowed and added with a grin, “One thing I still want to know, though, is why you decided to do all of this while wearing the apron from my sexy maid costume?”

Dave looked at Klaus and deadpanned, “Well, knowing what that costume’s been through, I didn’t think it would matter if I got a little _more_ love batter on it.” Then he winked.

Klaus let out a cackle of laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Klaus looked over at Dave slumped next to him. Tired and dishevelled and warm and happy and alive. And _his_.

“Like I said before,” Klaus declared in the most dignified voice he could, while simultaneously trying to lick icing out of his beard. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Dave looked back at Klaus fondly, a smile playing around the corner of his mouth, and replied, simply, “I wouldn’t have my cake any other way either.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading - I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day! ☂️
> 
> Link to my tumblr: [@yeah-klave](https://yeah-klave.tumblr.com/)


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